


Jack

by aliasofwestgate



Series: Bird of Prey [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Shapeshifting, canon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 12:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliasofwestgate/pseuds/aliasofwestgate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack: A term for a male merlin falcon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jack

**Author's Note:**

> A short interlude of sorts. Because the Arthur muse in my head demanded it, at the time i wrote it. (2008)

It had been some time since Arthur had been called out to ride with the knights for the latest round of raids. Things had been slow, and during that time they continued to spar, with Merlin filling in the many holes in Arthur’s knowledge of just how many times his manservant had saved his life with the magic he’d displayed almost two months earlier.

It made many things make sense in Arthur’s mind. Most of all how he’d been saved after being completely ensorcelled by Sophia, even when Merlin was barely half trained in both magic and blade work. This didn’t change his mind in the least on how much he admired the form he was currently battling on the practice grounds; this time on the grass outside, where he’d originally thrown Merlin around in full armor shortly after they’d met, during his father’s annual tournament a year before. No blades, no mail, just their own speed and skill, and for once nearly evenly matched. Ducking fists, and kicks, and laughing through most of it.

So far, no one was wise to the falcon which had taken to swooping into Arthur’s window more or less daily. He’d even had a perch brought in for the times when Merlin hadn’t had time to change back. Most times, when Merlin was in his falcon form, he’d leave immediately before anyone could see the blue eyes that set him apart from ordinary raptors. He’d be gone in a rush of feathers before anyone could touch the bird, or get too close a look at the creature that had been causing rumors of the Crown Prince taming a wild falcon, on his own, with no help at all.  Merlin had roared with laughter the first time Arthur had told him of that one. He’d told it in amusement as it was gossip from the ladies in his father’s usual sessions of court, which went on regardless of the raids on the borders of Albion. For now, there were their days of practice, which wore on Arthur’s ability to keep his distance from his servant and friend.  

Arthur ended the bout before he did something he knew he’d regret. Watching Merlin wipe his face with a towel was still more than enough torment for one day.  What he didn’t expect was Merlin taking to his falcon form with a mischievous glint in his eye, and circling round towards the castle. 

Arthur took that as incentive to race back, and Merlin kept pace with him, still out of reach of anyone else.  They separated as Arthur rushed inside, taking the stairs two and three at a time to make it to his quarters, opening the door breathlessly to find the little raptor on his windowsill; mocking him with its raucous calls.  This turned to human laughter as Merlin shifted back into himself, and that was it. He’d had enough of waiting; seeing the slim form in such unbridled joy was more than he could take.

Striding across the room, slamming the door shut behind him, a predatory gleam of his own in his eye, he looked into the startled dark blue eyes just before he kissed him. Taking in Merlin’s startled gasp before diving in again, this time his kiss was returned. He felt long fingered hands in his hair, and the kiss went out of his control. Moaning as his own mouth was explored without mercy by the slender man whose hips he held so tightly. 

Merlin finally ended it, and Arthur looked into his eyes, Merlin blinking for a moment, the smile still there, though for a very different reason, and not the least confused.    

 “I had begun to wonder whether I was going to have to hit you over the head and be done with it. How could you not see?” Arthur asked, his voice grown deeper, refusing to let him go.

“I always thought it was Morgana you wanted.” His friend’s voice soft, slightly husky in the quiet of their quarters, a hand straying to touch Arthur’s cheek that he couldn’t help but lean into.  Arthur shakes his head no, and begins pulling Merlin towards the bed.

His back hits the mattress, and he pulls in the slim body, their mouths clashing as once again the fight for control rages on. It’s too easy to give in to Merlin’s demands, feeling the wiry body draped over his own, grinding against each other in frantic movements, and Arthur gasping for breath as Merlin breaks the kiss and bites softly at his collarbone. Fingers sliding underneath his shirt and already moving to untie the constricting breeches around his waist are almost too much to bear, his hands scrambling to push up Merlin’s shirt in their frenzy, and somehow they manage to get everything off. 

Merlin’s skin is slick as he straddles Arthur, his long legs up against Arthur’s hips, and the prince can do no more than hold on and move to the rhythm set by him; his mind blown by the sensation, not sure if the moans he’s hearing are his or Merlin’s anymore. It becomes too much when Merlin bites down on his neck, his world bursting into white behind his eyelids. 

```````````````````````````````````````````````````

Large golden eyes glow in the darkness beneath the castle.  _Now it begins_ , the old Dragon thinks,  _war and strife and sorrow and joy. But also the binding that will last beyond time itself._   When his bones have long turned to dust, these two will live on, will awaken to show the world that magic still exists. A world where magic has been forgotten is all he knows. But is prepared to teach them all he has learned in his extraordinarily long life before he passes from this realm and into his own Summerland. He must see them tested in battle before their real trials even begin, the ones that will cause songs to be sung of them for centuries to come.  His Sight can see no more than that, and so he sleeps.

 

 


End file.
